I'm Telling You Why
by Jedicren
Summary: Tony's dad is incredulous when he sees his son's apartment for the first time. Why does it appear that nobody lives there? Season 10 spoiler alert: You Better Watch Out. TIVA
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** I'm Telling You Why

**Spoiler:** Season 10: You Better Watch Out, Season 7: Jack Knife, "Personal Demons" (snippet from a previous story of mine)

**Disclaimer:** NCIS does not belong to me

**Plot:** Tony's dad is incredulous when he sees his son's apartment for the first time. Why does it appear that nobody lives there? TIVA

* * *

Ziva's body tensed at the mention of Tony's apartment. She cleared her throat and gave the elder DiNozzo an innocent smile before stating that she had never been invited to Tony's apartment. As Tony's father turned toward his son, with an incredulous look upon his face, Ziva hurried to her desk, eyes down. She heard Tony mumble an assent to Senior that he could stay with him for Christmas after all. Feeling McGee's eyes boring into her, she brought up Noel Huffner's file on her computer and directed her stare at the glowing screen. Tapping her fingers against the desk, she watched as the rest of the team filtered slowly out of the bullpen. After a half hour of searching through every name in the Bureau of Engraving and Printing without so much as a lead, she switched her computer off and sighed. Wrapping her scarf around her neck and pulling on her coat, she glanced at the photo hanging on the side of her computer screen and smiled.

"You're a bad liar," came McGee's voice from above her.

Ziva glanced up and rolled her eyes. Tim was peering over her atop the cubicle wall.

"Am not," she said curtly.

"Your crazy ninja training didn't prepare you for interrogation by the boyfriend's dad, did it?" McGee asked as he strode around the desk to face her, eyebrows raised.

Ziva tightened her scarf and kept her expression neutral. "McGee," she said carefully, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Sure you do," he said calmly. "I'm talking about you and Ton—oww!"

Ziva moved quickly, grabbing his hand and giving it a swift press between the bones of his thumb, twisting her hand sideways as she applied pressure. "Not. So. Loud." She hissed. Letting go, she allowed Tim his hand back.

He shook his hand out and grumbled, "everyone else is gone."

Ziva shook her head, defeated. "How long have you known?" she asked.

Tim sighed, "a while..."

* * *

_2007_

_"Get Tony and Ziva out of bed." It had been a simple request, a miscommunication that became ironic a few minutes later. Of course, Gibbs had meant get them out of bed separately… McGee was more tired than he thought._

_A minute later, he hit the speed dial for Ziva's cell phone. He was still chiding himself for the ridiculous misunderstanding when Tony answered the phone._

_"Yea, McNarcolepsy?" he said, sounding half asleep._

_McGee's first thought was that Tony had the uncanny ability to be sarcastic while asleep. The second was that he had called Ziva's cell phone… and Tony had answered. He suddenly felt wide awake._

_After a second of silence, Tony spoke again, "McGee? Did you butt-dial me?" He yawned into the phone._

_Tony hadn't yet realized that he had answered Ziva's cell phone by mistake. McGee's mind quickly went through every reasonable possibility for the mix-up… all of which were illogical. He knew the truth._

_He cleared his throat, "Dead marine—Gibbs told me to wake you up." He paused, thinking over his next sentence. "And Tony?"_

"_Yeah?" he said, his voice becoming more lucid._

"_Find Ziva… I don't think she has her cell phone on her." He hung up before Tony had the chance to respond. He tapped his phone against his chin a few times, considering the situation. He was surprised that he _wasn't_ surprised._

_McGee trusted these people with his life, and of two things he was sure: neither one would ever voluntarily jeopardize the team over something trivial. So, whatever was happening was not trivial._

* * *

Tony snorted at his father's mention of intimacy and commitment—as if Senior could lecture him on either of those principles. He picked up the phone to make dinner reservations at his favorite restaurant and watched as his dad poked around his apartment, running his fingers along the piano to check for dust. Tony cringed as he spoke to the maître d', mumbling his confirmation about the 19:00 reservation. It was painfully obvious that he did not spend a large amount of time in the apartment. He wished he could call Ziva and apologize for leaving the office so abruptly. He briefly considered texting her before his dad's voice interrupted his train of thought. Tony hung up the phone and turned around. His father was standing three feet away, looking him square in the eye, eyebrows raised. Tony knew that look.

"Huh?" he said innocently.

His father shook his head, "You're obviously not here very often, son."

Tony coughed into his hand and ushered his father toward the door, "yeah, well… demands of the job and all that," he said quickly. If he didn't hurry, they would run into his neighbor, Flora, who fed Kate when he wasn't around… which was fairly often since he had moved in with Ziva last year. The truth was, he hadn't crossed the threshold of his apartment in weeks. As he locked the door behind him, he thanked God that his dad hadn't opened the dresser drawers. He would have to prepare an excuse for why they were completely empty… laundry day? Dry cleaning? He was sure he'd think of something.

* * *

At 23:00, Ziva's phone buzzed in her pocket. _Are you at home?_ Tony very rarely sent text messages—usually only when someone was in earshot of the conversation.

She texted a quick reply and tossed her phone onto the table. A little while later, the door of the pub opened to reveal Tony. He smiled when he saw her across the crowded bar and made his way toward her table. When he reached her, his smile faded as he noticed her companion at the table.

"McGee," he said, clearing his throat and loosening his tie, "what are you doing out this late? Isn't it McBedtime?"

McGee smirked. "Could be asking you the same question."

Tony opened his mouth to respond, but Ziva laid a hand on his shoulder. "He knows," she said gently.

Tony shut his mouth. He looked at McGee's face and knew exactly what Ziva was talking about. For a moment, he was fearful that the whole operation of secrecy was about to be blown. In McGee's face, however, there was a look of understanding. "How long?" he asked, taking a sip of Ziva's beer.

"A while," they answered in unison.

Tony furrowed his brow. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asked.

McGee shrugged, "I figured you'd tell me when you were ready."

"Does Gibbs know?" The thought tightened Tony's chest. He hated lying to his boss, but was afraid of the consequences of telling the truth.

McGee shrugged again, "maybe," he replied. "I don't think he'd object as much as you think." He took a drink of his appletini and leaned back against the back of the booth. "How'd it go with your dad?"

Tony sighed. "He turned in after dinner. I can't be gone long, though; the man is an insomniac. He'll be waking up anytime, rifling through drawers and playing the piano until all hours of the night. My neighbors will call the police, thinking someone broke in…"

"To play the piano?" Ziva asked.

"The place is empty except for my goldfish and that damn piano," Tony continued. "They'll probably think I was robbed and ask me to file a police report. I'll have to explain to the officers that I don't _really_ live there and Gibbs will find out, through the grapevine, that I am breaking rule #12."

"Sounds logical," McGee said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, well… it was bound to happen eventually," Tony took another swig of Ziva's beer and hopped to his feet. "Thanks for the lovely evening, folks. I'm going to hurry home so my daddy doesn't find out I snuck out of the house." He started toward the door, making it halfway down the crowded aisle before turning back. His face pink, he leaned down and kissed Ziva on the lips, running his hand down the side of her face. He could feel McGee's stare as he nuzzled her nose. Opening his eyes, he leaned his forehead against hers. "Sorry," he breathed. "We'll talk tomorrow?"

She nodded, brown eyes giving him a look of understanding.

He stood up and regarded McGee once more. "Night, Tim," he said before turning again and heading toward the door. Inside, he felt a sense of calm rush over him. Tim was one person he didn't have to lie to anymore.

All of McGee's doubts were laid to rest as he watched the interaction between his two partners. The unexplainable force that had propelled them together wasn't just fleeting lust. He had carefully watched the two for any behavior change that would forever alter the team dynamics. In one brief moment, however, he realized that the professionalism hid a deeper truth: Tony and Ziva were in love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: I'm Telling You Why

**Spoiler**: Season 10, You Better Watch Out

**Chapter:** 2

Tony squirmed in the passenger seat of the company car, crossing and uncrossing his legs and adjusting his hip holster.

"You promised no more whining if I cracked your back," McGee said, eyeing him from the driver's seat.

Tony grunted, "I'm not whining." He loosened his seat belt and leaned his seat back a few inches.

"You're squirming."

"I'm not squirming… I'm readjusting." He moved his seat upright and caught McGee's irritated expression in the rearview mirror. "Okay, okay! Maybe there's a little bit of the squirming. My couch is incredibly uncomfortable to sleep on, I'll have you know."

"Uh-huh."

Tony leaned back and looked out the window. He wondered if his dad was still searching for the roasting pan he didn't own. The thought of a "traditional DiNozzo Christmas dinner" was giving him a headache, as was the thought of sleeping on the couch for another few days. His train of thought drifted toward his own warm bed in his warm apartment with his warm girlfriend…. McGee's voice interrupted his daydream. "Huh?" he asked.

"I said, have you thought about just telling your father about you and Ziva?" McGee was looking at him, with one eyebrow raised.

Tony snorted. "I didn't even tell you." He furrowed his brow. "Not that I would tell you something over Senior… I just mean that… you know… we see one another every day. Well, not _every day_." He stopped for a second and thought, "No, actually, pretty much every day."

"You don't think your dad would be happy for you?"

"Of course he'd be happy for me," he replied with a chuckle, "Anthony DiNozzo Sr. is happy for _anyone_ who gets laid on a regular basis."

McGee cringed.

"Sorry." Tony cleared his throat, "I just mean that… you know… he'd probably be glad that I'm not _really_ alone in that apartment."

"So then what's the problem?"

Tony paused, rubbing his chin with his hand. "It means… actually having a real conversation with the man. Not so sure I'm ready for that." He suddenly realized that telling his dad about Ziva wasn't about divulging a secret that only one other person knew. It was about letting his father back in.

"Sure beats sleeping on the couch for two more days," McGee said as he pulled the car into the parking lot of NCIS.

* * *

Ziva sat in the passenger seat in silence, tapping her fingers against the window frame. She had known that the relationship between herself and Tony would never be easy as long as they worked together. They had made the difficult decision to risk their jobs, and she rarely regretted jumping in with two feet. Lying to everyone was not easy, however, and she felt relieved that McGee now knew.

"Something on your mind, Ziva?"

She looked over at Gibbs and shook her head, "It is nothing."

It was a few seconds before he spoke again. "Doesn't seem like nothing."

She shrugged and looked down at her folded hands, willing her brain to be still. "I am just thinking about the case," she lied. "I wonder how two people, such as the Huffners, can stay married when they appear to… hate one another so much."

Gibbs stared ahead, flicking the turn signal on with his thumb.

Ziva looked out the window and watched the buildings fly by as they neared their destination. "And further more," she added, "how did they get from their wedding day to… _this_?"

Gibbs glanced in her direction, "easier than you think."

She crossed her arms and leaned her head against the seat. As they pulled into Gillespie's Saloon, Gibbs turned toward her and put his hand on her arm.

"Hey, Ziver…" he said quietly, "it doesn't happen to everyone." He nodded once and opened the driver's side door, sliding out.

* * *

_Later that evening…_

Tony's eyes widened as his dad said the word "chill." _Chill? Really?_ His gaze flickered quickly around the apartment, making sure nothing else had been opened or moved. The cookies and tree were nice sentiments, but his dad was making it difficult to hide the fact that he didn't _actually_ live in the place. Senior must have gone out and bought cookie sheets and measuring cups, because he was absolutely certain his were in a box in the storage facility of his and Ziva's apartment complex. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Tony," came the voice of his neighbor.

Tony groaned and tried shushing his father. If he opened the door and she mentioned something about his infrequent visits home, he'd have to confess everything. _In the movies, this is where things start taking a drastic southern turn,_ he thought.

"Who is she?" his father asked.

"She's the bloodhound from across the hall," he said quickly, in hushed tones.

As his father tiptoed to the door, Tony sighed heavily. As soon as Senior got a look at that woman through the peephole, it'd be all over. He rolled his eyes and thanked his lucky stars when his phone suddenly jingled. McGee's text said that they had found a body, probably Cannady's. As he shut the door behind him, he briefly considered how ridiculous it was that he'd rather be at work, looking for dead bodies, than at home with his own father.

* * *

Ziva toweled off her hands and looked into the ladies' room mirror. The words Tony's dad spoke to her a few hours earlier still rattled around in her head.

_Beautiful inside and out… she was the love of my life, Ziva. I've never been able to fill up that void._

She was so lost in thought, she didn't hear the door open or the lock click. Suddenly, Tony was right next to her, wrapping his arms around her midsection.

"Hey," he breathed into her ear.

She closed her eyes as he kissed the side of her head. Turning, she allowed herself to be pulled into his arms. "Hey back." They stood there for a few seconds, his chin resting atop her head, her face burrowed into the nape of his neck. "Tony," Ziva started, "we should not be in here together. There are rules."

This was true; they had developed a specific set of rules for the workplace in order to maintain absolute secrecy. No canoodling during office hours was the gist of it, especially in the building. Ziva had later amended this statement to include flirtatious looks and "ogling" eyes (Tony had explained that it was called "making googly eyes," but she preferred the former description).

"And why do you smell like…" Ziva sniffed his sweater, "trash?"

Tony laughed, "that, my love, is a story that begins with trash and ends with McGee in a beaver costume."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: I'm Telling You Why

**Chapter:** 3

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of this.

**Note**: Thanks for all the reviews! This started out as a one-shot and became more because of the wonderful feedback I received from everyone. I hope you enjoy this last chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

* * *

After the credits rolled and the team had dispersed for the evening, Tony and his father headed back to the apartment. They sat in companionable silence for most of the ride, only speaking to mention the snow (it makes the city look so calm) and the movie (we watch it every year, it's become a tradition). As he pulled into the parking lot and turned off the ignition, Tony sat for a second and drummed his fingertips against the steering wheel, thinking.

"You coming, Junior?" his father asked after shutting the passenger door and taking a few steps up the walk.

Tony sighed and opened his own door, "yeah," he replied. He leaned back to grab his workbag and exited the vehicle. As they ascended the stairs to his apartment, he mulled over his conversation with McGee from earlier. Was he ready to tell his father the truth about the apartment, Ziva, everything? He doubted it. As he unlocked the door and flipped on the lights, he chided himself for being such a coward. Sure, he could tell his dad he loved him and forgive him for the indiscretion with his neighbor. He could forgive him for "misplacing" the family ring for twenty-plus years and trying to lecture Tony about his commitment issues. Truthfully, he had been successfully forgiving his father since he was eight-years-old. Forgiveness wasn't the issue; allowing his father into his life was.

"Did you want me to whip us up something to eat?" His dad was waiting for a response.

"I don't live here." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he had a chance to think. Immediately, he wished them back in.

His father raised his eyebrows and tipped his head to one side. "You're going to have to give me a little more to go on, Junior."

Tony sighed and leaned against the wall. They hadn't even taken their coats off. He didn't have a drink in his hand. _This is one of those conversations that requires an alcoholic beverage, by law,_ he thought to himself. "I don't…" he stopped talking and looked up at the ceiling for a brief second, wondering if he could say the words out loud. He spent so much of the time holding this secret close to his heart. Even when he and McGee had talked about it, he hadn't really admitted to anything. McGee already knew. There was no need to state the obvious.

"Son?" His father stepped closer and set his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Whatever it is… you can tell me."

Tony inhaled. "I don't live here… really." He massaged his forehead with one hand and cleared his throat. "I live with Ziva. We're… Ziva and I are…" he was gesturing with his hands, willing his father to understand. The man stood there, eyeing him without a word. Tony realized his dad was going to make him say the words out loud. "I love her," he said quietly.

His father smiled and clapped his shoulders. "Wonderful!"

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Of course, Junior. She's a wonderful woman… reminds me of your mother."

"Dad, mom wasn't Jewish."

His dad wasn't listening. Anthony DiNozzo Sr. was halfway through the foyer with his hand resting on the doorknob before Tony had the words "where are you going?" out of his mouth.

"To your apartment, of course."

Tony flinched. He had anticipated coming clean and spending the rest of the evening sipping scotch and watching Christmas movies on his tiny television. "Not sure that's such a good idea," he said as he followed his father out of the apartment.

"Don't be ridiculous, son. I came here to spend Christmas with you, and it would be a wasted trip if I didn't get to see where you _really_ lived."

* * *

Ziva got the text message as she was drinking wine and soaking in the bathtub.

_I told him. We're on our way home._

She smiled to herself as she let the water out of the tub and threw on her bathrobe. Talking to Tony's father would be a cinch compared with her own. She hadn't spoken to Eli David in… how long had it been? She counted back the months as she pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. _Too long_, she decided. The longest she had ever gone without talking to a member of her immediate family. As she pulled her hair up into a ponytail, she heard the lock on the front door click. _Here it goes._

"Ziva?" came Tony's voice.

Ziva padded out of the bedroom as the two men entered. Tony, dropped his keys into the bowl by the door and shrugged out of his coat. His father breezed past him, crossing the distance between them in a few steps and embracing her, squeezing her body like a sponge.

"Oomph," she managed. "Welcome."

He released her and took a step back, holding her gaze. "So, I hear my son finally wised up?" he chuckled, "how did he snag such a gorgeous woman?

Ziva snickered.

"Enough, dad," Tony said from the foyer. "Let me have your coat. I'll drop your bag in the guest room."

Anthony DiNozzo Sr. handed his son his winter coat without glancing back. "How long have you two been…?"

From the adjacent room, Ziva heard Tony moan, "don't even _think_ about finishing that sentence, dad, I swear to…"

"Oh, relax Junior," the elder DiNozzo shushed him. "Dating. I was going to ask how long you've been dating."

"Sure you were." Tony moved into the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of red wine that was sitting on the counter. "You don't have to answer any of his questions, Ziva." He poured three glasses and carried them over.

"No, no," Ziva said, smiling at Tony's father, "it is quite alright. Three years," she answered honestly.

"And are your intentions honorable?"

Ziva snorted and took a sip of the wine Tony handed her. Leaning forward, she grinned mischievously, "of course not."

Tony's dad chuckled as his son took a long gulp of his drink. "That's what I like to hear!"

Later that evening, after Tony's father had turned in for the night, Ziva brushed her teeth, thinking. It felt nice to have a family member know the truth; made it feel more real, somehow. She rinsed her face and shut the light off, entering her dimly lit bedroom. It was a relief to have Tony home. His absence had left a cold, empty spot in the apartment. Now, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the dark television screen. She climbed into his lap and kissed his lips softly.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey back."

"Missed you."

She tucked her hair behind one ear and smiled, "I can tell." She pulled him closer.

He laughed and rolled his eyes. "It's been a week…"

She shook her head, amused. "Three days, Tony."

"Really? Feels longer." He wrapped his arms around her.

She kissed him again, running her hands through his hair, feeling electricity pulse up her spine. He grabbed a fistful of her t-shirt and deepened the kiss, closing the distance between their bodies. They became more frantic, Ziva's pulse quickened, her body responding to him. He knotted his fingers through her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her neck and laying light kisses below her ear. She yanked off his t-shirt and tossed it unceremoniously onto the floor.

Ziva was trailing her lips along Tony's collarbone when she heard a light knock, and the door opened.

"Oh!" Anthony DiNozzo Sr. said, an air of surprise in his voice.

"Dad!" Tony yelped, "what the hell?" He grimaced and rubbed his forehead with his hand, Ziva still firmly placed in his lap. After a beat of uncomfortable silence, he cleared his throat. "Did'ga need something?" he asked, with tangible sarcasm.

"Just wanted to tell you my flight leaves at 09:00 tomorrow morning, Junior." He offered a sly smile. "Carry on."

The door shut, leaving Tony and Ziva alone once again.

"And that's why we don't have family over."

Ziva slid off his lap and crawled across the bed, chuckling. "He is harmless, Tony."

"As a mountain lion," he replied. "You know he did that on purpose."

"You are being ridiculous," she said, switching off the bedside table lamp, enveloping them in darkness. She felt the bed move beside her, felt Tony's arm slide under her head, pulling her body toward his.

They lay there for a few minutes, legs entwined under the covers. The apartment was still, moonlight streamed through the crack in the curtains.

"Tony?"

"Huh?"

"We have to tell him."

There was a moment of silence before he responded. He knew whom she was referring to. _Gibbs._ "I know," he said softly.


End file.
